


Pinned

by Doodler



Category: The Eagle | The Eagle of the Ninth (2011)
Genre: M/M, Unresolved Tension, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-19
Updated: 2014-04-19
Packaged: 2018-01-19 23:57:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1488964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Doodler/pseuds/Doodler
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Marcus was lying on the ground, wounded, thirsty and weak before Esca came in.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pinned

**Author's Note:**

> I've always thought, what would it be like if Marcus was Esca's slave?

Marcus was lying on the ground, wounded, thirsty and weak before Esca came in.

Esca was shoved into the tent, easy teasing and laughter went after the smaller figure as he turned his head around to shout with seeming annoyance, before he lowered the curtain and marched forward with few steady strides, coming to an abrupt halt in front of Marcus. Esca looked down, his expression unreadable.

“What now?” Marcus asked wearily.

He hadn’t had water in a whole day. This was supposedly his punishment, for sparing a glance at that girl. He swallowed dry and hard, and flinched when his leg pained him like a strike of whip. His body was still aching from the day’s taunts, verbal—those he could take, he didn’t understand them anyway, but he knew good enough that he was been ruthlessly made fun of—as well as physical. The seal prince didn’t hold his strength when he and his crew of painted warriors threw him onto the ground and gave him a cruel lesson. He had gritted his teeth and took one strike after another. There’s no other way. Marcus probably could have easily overpowered one of them if he was in his best state, but at the heart of a whole killing tribe, and after being left hungry day after day without a good rest? He knew better. He had to be as compliant as possible for the time being, to save his strength up for a final strike. Just wait till he got himself a knife, better a sword, and saw the right chance… He sure as hell was going to seize it.

The chance to kill Esca.

He clenched his fists tight at the though of the man in front of him. Neither the flesh wounds building upon one another or the insults thrown in his face were what hurt him the most. He didn’t want to admit how much it had influenced him, but what truly filled his day with unbearable agony was Esca’s reaction. He had lost himself and called Esca’s name when the torture began, in the slightest hope that Esca might be able to do something, anything, to save him from the pain… What fool was himself. All through the taunting, shoving and beating there Esca was, watching from aside, arms crossed, face hard without expression, until Marcus had given up even raising his head in that direction.

His uncle had been right. Marcus was a compete fool to put his heart and fate into the hands of a slave. He had thought, with what months they spent together, that they had been growing close, even closer than normal friends would treat each other. When they looked each other in the eye with broad smile on their sweaty faces, after a day’s hunt, after a good spar, at his sick bed… he thought he’d seen tender and care in Esca’s pair of grey eyes. But clearly he had been wrong. It turned out, Esca was a better actor than Marcus gave him credit for. It turned out he had placed his trust in an unworthy liar, and this was the price Marcus was going to pay for his own mistake.

But he was going to live through this. He _could_ take this when he set his mind to. Take whatever he had to take. If he died striking the whole tribe to death, then he would have died in honour, as a proper Roman should. But he’d fucking make sure to get to Esca first, before he went down.

A hand reached down. Marcus froze as Esca’s hand stretched towards his hair and forced his chin up.

Esca’s eyes were as beautiful as ever. Marcus cursed himself for thinking about this now, among all things he should be thinking about—but he was distracted momentarily when he saw a flash of something like regret and sorrow there. The moment seemed to stretch impossibly as he simply stared at Esca’s eyes, stared at the undeniable pain in there and forgot about his own wound, his thirst, his hatred, anything and everything and he just couldn’t move his gaze.

But the moment had passed quickly enough and had seemed like nothing but his own imagination when he was suddenly shoved to the ground, hard.

Marcus muffled a cry of pain when esca followed up the movement with a knee in his belly, pinning him there with force. He hissed, “what do you fucking want from me, Esca?”

Marcus was confused as Esca’s low, crisp voice shook with something he couldn’t tell, “I need you to cry out for me.”

“Wha…” But before he even had the split second to think about what the hell that meant, he was hit with an unexpected blow in the stomach.

He let out a shout of pain but managed to swallow it half way through. He might be too weak to put on a fight, but he would make sure he kept his mouth shut. If this is what Esca wanted, good, he sure as hell wasn’t going to get it.

However Esca was always unexpected. Marcus’s whole body tensed up despite his own wish when Esca’s other hand slide down his brocade, and found his cock. And terror rose in him when he realise he was already half-hard.

He blinked and gasped. This was too much. Marcus had always had an eye for Esca, but he had mostly succeeded in pushing his attraction towards the Briton out of his messy mind, and when his body just wouldn't cooperate he made quick tumbles to solve his rising problems, and never once did he allowed himself to dwell on what could have happened if Esca was not a slave, and not even just a friend, but a companion and lover… God knew how much he had wished for the affection of the other man, just how much he had wished his prayer would come true.

“Ngh” was all he could manage before he felt blood rushing up into his head, and down towards his belly. He wasn’t able to stop himself before a desperate moan of the other man’s name fled his lips.

Esca’s movements stopped abruptly.

Marcus froze. Cold fear suddenly swept over him. Now Esca would surely know his unspoken desire of him. What would he do with the newly gained power in his hands? Esca already had more control over him than he ever wanted to let on. What if he laugh at him for it? He was all too aware of what Esca was capable of and how ruthless he was when he wanted to be. And he wasn't sure he could take cold tease from Esca, of all people, for what feelings he hold for the man. Marcus felt like his heart was beating against his throat and he found it hard to breathe. His whole body was crying for deny, urging him to flee, but he just lied there cold, unable to come up with a single word or move an inch, too dreadful of what might happen next.

But suddenly Esca’s lips was upon his and before he knew it they were kissing, and kissing, fiercely. It was like he was dying and Esca held his life on that kiss. Esca tasted like wine, like sunshine and earth, like everything he’d dreamed of and never had the guts to dream further.

Marcus heard distant whimpers and moans, too loud to ignore, and realised in the back of his head that those noise were coming from his own throat. He vaguely remembered something about not wanting to let his voice out but couldn’t remember just why, because Esca’s hands were setting fire everywhere on his body, tangled in his hair, pulling with force, cupping his face with fiery passion, roaming his torso, and Esca’s body was rutting against his as Marcus was pinned to the ground by a mere kiss, not wanting or daring to break it.

He felt the other man’s body tensing up as Esca craned his neck with a blissful look on his face and his whole body shuddered uncontrollably as pleasure took over him. Marcus heard a whisper of his own name lingering on those swollen red lips and the broken sound of it was all it took for Marcus to give himself completely in.

It was over all too quickly.

Before he realised, Esca had already climbed up, cleaned himself up on the side and was walking out the tent.

“No… Esca, wait!” Marcus cried after him, but Esca only quickened his pace and soon there were only muffled stomping, jeers and laughter outside, leaving Marcus alone on the cold hard ground, panting, heart thumping, hurt and confused.


End file.
